


without a doubt

by NalgeneWhore



Series: Rowcan One Shots [7]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, holiday fluff, i luv them., they r qts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28021371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NalgeneWhore/pseuds/NalgeneWhore
Summary: i have a couple more holiday ficlets coming too !! i hope u guys enjoy it 😊
Relationships: Lorcan Salvaterre/Rowan Whitethorn
Series: Rowcan One Shots [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636585
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	without a doubt

_ “Darling, please,”  _ his boyfriend laughs,  _ “stop pouting.”  _

Rowan frowns and tucks his chin into the collar of his hoodie. Lorcan’s hoodie, actually. “I am not  _ pouting _ . I’m upset.” 

Through the screen of the laptop, Lorcan’s image is grainy. His smile dims slightly,  _ “I know. I’m sorry, Ro. I was really sure that we would be done by now.”  _ He flicks his eyes to the side and the muscles in his sharp jaw feather. His dark brows lower and he mutters,  _ “I never would’ve taken it if I knew I’d be gone this long.”  _

“I know, my love,” Rowan whispers, subtly wiping away the silver that lines his eyes. “But this is your dream. It’s always been your dream, L. I can’t be the reason you give that all up, you know?” 

Lorcan nods, that frown still on his fiercely beautiful face. He looks down and picks at his bedspread,  _ “Yeah, I know.”  _ Quickly, he snaps his head up, his eyes ablaze,  _ “I would though. I’d give it all up for you, if you asked.”  _

The words rest on the tip of his tongue. Rowan almost blurts them out, but he doesn’t. Instead he smiles softly to hide the aching, yearning feeling that never quite dulls. “But I’m not asking you. So you’re stuck there.” 

Lorcan laughs humorlessly and his eyes sparkle,  _ “Yeah, I know.”  _ It falls kind of flat. If they were together, Rowan would kiss him and they would forget all about it all.  _ “Oh, I got you your Yulemas gift today. Putting it in the mail tomorrow.”  _

“Oh, really? Will I like it?” Rowan shifts to lie on his stomach and props his chin up on a ring-laden fist.

_ “Rowan Whitethorn!”  _ Lorcan gives him an offended look,  _ “When have I  _ ever _ gotten you something you haven’t liked?”  _

Rowan laughs and concedes, “You’re right, you’re right. You truly are the gift master.” 

_ “I know,” _ Lorcan replies smugly. He stretches his bare arms above his head and tucks his hands behind him, his head cradled by his inked biceps.  _ “You’re a very… appreciative receiver.” _ With his cocky grin, there’s no way to ignore the implication. 

An outraged gasp escapes Rowan, “Are you calling me a  _ whore _ ?” 

Lorcan laughs,  _ “No, I am not calling you a  _ whore _. You can have the qualities of a label and not be the label.”  _

“You  _ are _ calling me a whore! Oh my gods, I hate you,” Rowan complains, his green eyes narrowed in warning. “Maybe it’s a good thing you aren’t here ‘cause I could kill you right now.” 

_ “Oh, I love it when you sweet talk me, baby. Reminds me of how you stole my heart.”  _

Rowan snorts and grabs a pillow to cushion his chin, “I love you. And I wish I could say it in person.” 

His boyfriend’s face softens. Lorcan says back,  _ “I love you too and I wish you could hear it for real.”  _

They smile at each other, eyes filled with longing and reverent adoration. Until hours later, when they both fall asleep without bothering to hang up, they talk about everything and nothing at all. It mends their incomplete souls, even if just for a moment. 

“Happy Yulemas Eve!” 

Rowan smiles and accepts the hug Aelin pulls him into, “Happy Yulemas Eve, Fireheart. Is everyone here already?” He looks over his friend’s head down the front hall of her apartment. 

They step back and Aelin nods, “Yeah, they’re all here. Well, almost.” 

He nods and steps in, “Yeah… he- he tried, you know, but there wasn’t any way.” Rowan shrugs his coat off and hangs it up. “It’s fine. He promised to call and say ‘hey’ later, during presents.” 

The golden-haired woman grins and takes his bag of gifts, “That’ll be nice - we all miss him. Now,” she tucks her hand into his elbow and tugs him in, “come along, there’s lots to do!” 

In the open-concept living room, their friends are already there, at varying levels of sobriety. They call out their cheerful greetings as Aelin puts Rowan’s presents beneath the tree. Fenrys surges to his feet, “Rowan!” 

Rowan laughs at the sight of his drunken friend, “Hey, bud. How are you doing?” 

“I’m very, very, very good,” Fenrys slurs. “Ress is here, did you see?” He casts an adoring look at his boyfriend, who blushes like always. “He’s my boyfriend.” 

“I know, Fen,” Rowan says, his bright grin not quite reaching his eyes. 

“Oh! Oh no, I’ve upset you,” Fenrys exclaims, his face twisted in wasted anguish. He throws his arms around Rowan and pats the top of his head, “Oh, it’s ok, it’s ok. Lor’s a miserable misan—” 

“Ok, Fenrys, why don’t we go somewhere else, hmm?” Lysandra interjects, pulling Fenrys away. She kisses Rowan’s cheek, pushing him to the kitchen like a perfect hostess should. “There’s food and drinks in the kitchen and dinner will be ready in half an hour - help yourself, ‘kay?” 

Rowan nods and walks to the kitchen, quietly filling a plate. A petite woman slips up to him, a drink in hand for him, “Hello, Rowan. How are you?” 

He smiles as he pops an olive into his mouth, “Hey, El.” Rowan shrugs, “I’m… fine. I’m fine. Really, it’s…” 

“Fine?” Elide suggests, a cheeky grin on her heart-shaped face. 

“Yeah,” Rowan sighs. 

She leans against him, rubbing his back soothingly, “Ok, well, c’mon to the living room and sit with me. Borte and Aelin are going at it again.” Elide pulls him to the couch without waiting for his response. 

For a while, Rowan forgets about being alone. Around him, his family talks animatedly, egging the two most chaotic members on as they battle over the finale to some show they’re both obsessed with. The others watch with rapt attention, laughing outrageously at the things Borte and Aelin say. 

In a lull of silence, Rowan stands up, “I’m going to step out for a bit. Too warm.” He walks to the balcony as the conversation resumes, albeit much quieter. Everyone turns to their respective partners, whispering soft nothings and laughing at stupid jokes. His breath hitches and Rowan looks to the kitchen just in time to see Lysandra hold a sprig of mistletoe over Aelin’s head and the couple kisses, smiling as they press their lips together. 

His chest squeezes painfully tight. Tears burn his eyes and Rowan rushes outside. It’s bitterly cold and the sharp winter wind nips at his face. He sniffles, blowing out a long breath to keep his tears at bay. It’s stupid. 

In the pocket of his oversized corduroys, Rowan feels his phone buzz. He hastily pulls it out with clumsy, half-frozen fingers. He expects to see Lorcan’s contact flashing over the screen with a waiting call, but all he sees is a text message. 

_ lover boy <3: srry ro smthng came up _

_ lover boy <3: can’t call tn  _

_ lover boy <3: luv u  _

All his air escapes him in a pathetic, teary exhale. Rowan shakes his head in disbelief and types back quickly. 

_ pretty boy: are you sure? i really miss you  _

_ lover boy <3: i’ll call tmrw _

_ lover boy <3: promise _

Rowan sighs and replies resignedly. 

_ pretty boy: ok love  _

_ pretty boy: i love you too  _

Rowan shuts his phone off and wipes his eyes, cursing himself for his tears. 

_ Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? _ Asks a hissing voice. His ears burn in shame.  _ He’s finally doing what he’s always wanted to - why aren’t you happy for him? He would be happy for you. _

Rowan shakes his head to dispel the thoughts and puts his phone in his pocket. He pushes his silver-blond curls off and braces his hands against the railing. After a few minutes, the glass door slides open and someone steps out, “Ro? Is everything alright? We’re going to open gifts now.” 

“Y-yeah, everything’s fine. Something came up and Lor can’t call tonight.” He turns, shrugging his shoulder up. “It’s fine.” Rowan drags his red and silver lined eyes up to Aelin’s. “I’m fine.” 

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” She steps out and takes his hand, “Come on, we’ve got presents.” 

He smiles and lets her pull him inside. He’s ushered to a seat and handed a mug of mulled wine. 

Aelin peruses the available gifts and picks a slim box up, “And this one is for Rowan, from his very own lover boy.” She passes it to Rowan who takes it. He traces the tip of his finger over the label, smiling at his boyfriend’s looping handwriting. 

Rowan doesn’t bother to be patient and tears into it, not noticing the tittering giggles and scurrying feet behind him. He tosses the wrapping paper to the side and eases the top of the box off. 

Whatever’s inside is covered in tissue paper. Rowan carefully opens it, puzzled as he sees a folded slip of paper. He takes it out and glances into the box, but there’s nothing more. “Oh.” He unfolds it and reads it quickly.

_ turn around - L  _

Rowan frowns and puts the box down. “What is this?” He looks up and their faces are pink with barely controlled glee. “Guys, what did you do?” 

From behind him, he hears a dry, dark chuckle. “Won’t you turn around, my darling?” 

A half sob escapes Rowan and he stands up, the note fluttering to the floor as he turns. In the hall, Lorcan stands. He smiles a tired, weary smile, but it’s lazy and easy and golden and  _ Lorcan.  _ “Lor?” Rowan runs towards him, crashing into his boyfriend. He clutches at the back of Lorcan’s jacket, his smile blinding. 

Lorcan laughs quietly and pulls Rowan close, his big arms around the green-eyed man’s waist, “Hey, Ro.” 

“Hi,” Rowan whispers, tears caught in his lashes. “Are you really here?” He lifts his head, eyes searching Lorcan’s face. 

Instead of answering, Lorcan closes the distance between them and kisses Rowan deeply. Rowan melts into the embrace and softly sighs his boyfriend’s name, slim fingers sliding into dark hair. 

“Good gods, get a room already,” Aelin heckles cheerily. 

Lorcan bites Rowan’s lower lip and flips Aelin off as he slides his tongue over Rowan’s. Rowan hums sweetly and pulls away, his lip tucked between his teeth, “What are you doing here? What about work?” 

“I quit,” Lorcan says proudly, his eyes bright.

Rowan gapes at him and pushes his boyfriend backwards, “You  _ what _ ? Lorcan!” He smacks his boyfriend’s shoulder, “You love that job. Oh my gods, you did this for me, didn’t you?  _ Didn’t _ you?” 

Lorcan grins widely, tugging Rowan back into his arms, “I’m sorry, pretty boy, but I did. No matter how much I liked it, I couldn’t be without you for that long.” 

“But,” Rowan makes a helpless gesture, not entirely sure why he’s fighting this, “you love that job.” 

“Yeah,” Lorcan bumps the tip of his cold nose into Rowan’s and pecks his lips, “but I love you more. I couldn’t enjoy it ‘cause I was missing you all the time.” 

Rowan can’t articulate everything he wants to say, so he hopes his kiss does it for him, “I love you so much. So much, love.” He lazily cradles the back of Lorcan’s head. 

“Hellas below, you have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear that for real,” Lorcan murmurs. “I love love love you.” 

Behind them, their friends start to catcall and whistle in appreciation. They break apart, cheeks burning and lips love-bitten. Reluctantly, the couple walks into the living room. Rowan sits down in the oversized armchair and picks up his drink. As Lorcan goes around, saying hello to everyone, Aelin perches herself on the arm of Rowan’s seat and toys with his light curls, “So, how do you like your gift?” 

“You- this was  _ you _ ? You did this for me?” 

“Oh,” she laughs merrily, “I wish I could take credit for it, but I only helped with the getting him here. This idea was all your mans.” Aelin tilts her head to the side, “Best Yulemas ever?” 

Rowan looks up to find Lorcan already looking his way. The dark-haired man walks over to him and bumps Aelin out of the way with an expert hip check, “What are you two talking about?” Lorcan sits down beside Rowan and slides his hand into the hair at the back of Rowan’s head. 

Rowan rests his chin on Lorcan’s shoulder and kisses the skin beneath his jaw, “This being the best Yulemas ever.” 

“Really? That good, hmm?” 

“Mmm,” Rowan smiles and kisses him softly, “without a doubt.” He nuzzles his nose against Lorcan’s, “Best Yulemas ever.”

**Author's Note:**

> i have a couple more holiday ficlets coming too !! i hope u guys enjoy it 😊


End file.
